Hard-faced glass reflects lines etched with makeup and dark circles under eyes. The light comes down from the ceiling in all directions and is a sickly blue-green. Makes white walls look yellow and skin appear jaundiced. The profile is more angular now than it's been, but certainly just as insecure. The flourescence casts deep shadows into so many scars left behind, never quite out of sight. And hair, like wheat, and as untame as its reflection's spirit.
She is a solid block of steel on the inside, encased in something soft and vulnerable. She still cries when it hurts but still bites her lips to fight it down. She is smart but afraid to show it, and keeps far too much inside the steel, away from daylight. She craves acknowledgement, acceptance, recognition, but thinks the need for it is her biggest weakness. She wants to function independently of the approval of others. She hasn't yet realized that she can't. Hopefully someday she will.
It would make things a lot easier for me, on the other side of the glass.
Hang on tightly, let go lightly.
About Me
- porfiry
- The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break, it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure that it will kill you too, but there will be no special hurry.